he baby an' his hoss's haid
in a wet blanket, an' rode away. Thet was sure some ride, I've heerd.
But the fire ketched Monty at the last. The woman fell an' was lost,
an' then his hoss. An' Monty ran an' walked an' crawled through the fire
with thet baby, an' he saved it. Monty was never much good as a cowboy
after thet. He couldn't hold no jobs. Wal, he'll have one with me as
long as I have a steer left."

VI. A Gift and A Purchase

For a week the scene of the round-up lay within riding-distance of
the ranch-house, and Madeline passed most of this time in the saddle,
watching the strenuous labors of the vaqueros and cowboys. She
overestimated her strength, and more than once had to be lifted from her
horse. Stillwell's pleasure in her attendance gave place to concern. He
tried to persuade her to stay away from the round-up, and Florence grew
even more solicitous.

Madeline, however, was not moved by their entreaties. She grasped only
dimly the truth of what it was she was learning--something infinitely
more than the rounding up of cattle by cowboys, and she was loath to
lose an hour of her opportunity.

Her brother looked out for her as much as his duties permitted; but for
several days he never once mentioned her growing fatigue and the strain
of excitement, or suggested that she had better go back to the house
with Florence. Many times she felt the drawing power of his keen blue
eyes on her face. And at these moments she sensed more than brotherly
regard. He was watching her, studying her, weighing her, and the
conviction was vaguely disturbing. It was disquieting for Madeline to
think that Alfred might have guessed her trouble. From time to time
he brought cowboys to her and introduced them, and laughed and jested,
trying to make the ordeal less embarrassing for these men so little used
to women.

Before the week was out, however, Alfred found occasion to tell her that
it would be wiser for her to let the round-up go on without gracing it
further with her presence. He said it laughingly; nevertheless, he was
serious. And when Madeline turned to him in surprise he said, bluntly:

"I don't like the way Don Carlos follows you around. Bill's afraid
that Nels or Ambrose or one of the cowboys will take a fall out of the
Mexican. They're itching for the chance. Of course, dear, it's absurd to
you, but it's true."

Absurd it certainly was, yet it served to show Madeline how intensely
occupied she had been wit